Stun
by ebonbird
Summary: Rapid-fire cost-benefit analyses of surprises lead to resolve. Follows 'Roots'.


Nyota awoke, rolled over onto her stomach in order to better know Spock's bed. She hadn't spent much time in contact with it, and when she'd had reason to sleep - or finally allowed herself to (was allowed to)- she crashed.

Awake, she stretched, enjoying that she had the bed all to herself. She surveyed the area in her direct line of sight, which was part of Spock's left thigh. She could see more of it, him, but that would mean moving her head. She reached again, grazing him with her index and forefinger. It was like putting her hand in ray of light. The thigh turned. He shut his drawer. His fingers lit on her head.

"Good morning, Nyota."

"Hiiii," she said and stroked his skin. He was fuzzy there, but not all the way around his leg.

"Are you well?" he asked.

She gave up her prone position, leaned on her forearm, still stroking his leg.

"Mmhm."

He was naked, clean. His eyes disarmingly black.

"I did not anticipate that you would awake before 0900 hours."

"Early riser. No matter what I've been doing the night before."

He was naked. She was in his bed. Naked in his bed. It didn't seem quite real. She shifted, trying to pull her hair out from under her. Spock braced his knees on the edge of his bed, stroking his hand along the curve of her head, gathering hair at the base of her skull, then gently gathering loose strands as Nyota tossed and rocked to the side and got them out of her way.

"Thank you?" she said.

"My pleasure."

Muscles in his thigh shifted, indicating that he was about to get off the bed. Nyota grabbed his thigh and reached for his sex. Tongue first.

She could taste morning in her mouth, but his flavor was stronger. She hummed at the heat and the sweet pressure of him in her mouth. She wished she could see his face, because his hands on her neck and shoulders didn't give away much. She kissed and licked and sucked, delighting in the sudden rock hard tension in his legs. He was breathing hard between tiny, high noises he couldn't help but make. He pulled on her once, sharply, and then stopped touching. She glanced up at him and noted his flushed face, shuttered eyes, incredulous eyebrows, rapid fire adam's apple and thickened neck.

She smirked, getting up on her knees and dragging a hand across her wet mouth. His eyes popped open, dazed, so black and shiny yet so dazed.

His nostrils flared as she came into focus for him. She grinned. His eyes widened further. He had nothing to say.

With a toss of her head, casting her hair over her shoulder, she bent over him, laying her hands on his waist and drawing them down his thighs and cupping his butt and pulling him tight against her lips. Everywhere she touched him, he made her slick. He was that hot, and drew sweat out of her. He was louder when he vocalized at all and in seconds she'd made him come. He was beautiful growling through his orgasm. His hands wrapped around her. He arched his back, rose on his toes. She stayed with him. He fell forward on the bed, she only barely got out of his way. His eyes wide and considering, he rolled onto his back. Staring at her, askance, all the while. She could see nearly all the white of his eyes.

She pressed her lips together, suddenly alarmed.

He let out a long, slow breath and threw his arm over his face. With the other he drew her tight against his side. He was trembling. She made it a point not to say a word until he did. Consequently, she was silent for a good while.

Cautiously, she stroked his side.

"Extraordinary," he said from behind his arm.

She swallowed. "It doesn't have to be."

He lifted his hand enough to peer at her from one wild eye. Either his eyebrow had become one with his hairline or his hand was larger than she thought.

His eye narrowed. Closed. He shook his head infinitesimally.

Then he'd wrapped himself half way around her, and the arm he'd been hiding behind banded her across her body and his long, hot fingers were stroking her skin between her navel and the seam of her sex.

"You do not know my strength, Nyota." He said to her, his voice rough and full of warmth. Humor and something else, something she couldn't name. She reached for his face but he grabbed her fist and drew her arm over her head, banding her fist with what felt like all his strength. "In the future, warning would be appropriate."

"A-and, why is that?"

He kissed her temple, licked a line from her forehead to the point of her jaw. "It is not obvious? I did not dare touch you after a certain progression in your—" he parted her lips with his finger, applied pressure and torque. She softened against him, even though all the lines of her body grew taut. "Attentions, my Nyota."

She laughed softly. "You liked it."

"Indeed. I reiterate. You do not know my strength and for a moment, I did not know myself."

"No?"

"Only you. Such distraction, requires a certain mindfulness."

"That's not logical."

He groaned. She laughed, even though his fingers around her wrist (not quite brutal) and on her mound (and in her and around her and slick and hot and tender) were nothing but serious.

"We will not parse logic in this."

"You didn't like it."

"For a moment, I forgot my own strength. And, my Nyota, that could be disastrous." He squeezed her wrist. She sucked in a breath.

"Never again?" she said.

"On the contrary. Again and again. And again, I beg of you. Slowly, and cautiously, until caution can be thrown to the proverbial winds."

Even though he held her at her sex and her wrist, and her other arm was immobilized between his body and hers, she worked her fingers and ran them along his flank. He loosed his hold on her wrist. His hand flattened on her thigh, then hip as he curled into her, gasping her name.

She could hear the rapid beating of his heart, faster and harder than her own pulse in her ears.


End file.
